


somewhere i can believe

by brahe



Category: Project Blue Book (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Slow Dancing, enjoy, hand holding, idk yall, it's Soft™, it's plotless, that's p much it, they slow dance in a parking lot and they make out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 18:08:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17750900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brahe/pseuds/brahe
Summary: He reaches for Allen, then, sliding an arm around his waist and pulling them together, chests close enough to touch with a deep breath.“I think I'd like to dance with you."





	somewhere i can believe

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Strange Situations](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17622572) by [TheDeadAreWalking](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDeadAreWalking/pseuds/TheDeadAreWalking). 



> season two babey!!!!!!
> 
> im so glad we got renewed, can't wait for more vintage gays + aliens
> 
> ive been working on this since [TheDeadAreWalking](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDeadAreWalking/pseuds/TheDeadAreWalking) posted [Strange Situations](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17622572) and what better time to finish and post
> 
> shout out to ash for their 100/10 fic and for letting me steal their concept, and to the blue book discord for listening to me yell about hynequinn at all hours
> 
> title from bridges burn by needtobreathe, which is mostly what i listened to while writing this

It's late by the time they leave the restaurant – there's a low fog outside, cool and damp over the parking lot, but the sky is clear, full of stars this far out from big cities. They walk slow, side-by-side, shoulders bumping together, and the band's music follows them out, dimming into soft chords the further they go. 

Michael's spent the majority of his evening watching Allen; watching the way he lit up when the band played one of his favorites, the way he leaned across the table to talk to Michael, sleeves rolled to his elbows. He'd looked so open, like that, so warm, tie loose and a soft smile on his face, a little flushed with the alcohol and the warmth of the restaurant. 

He doesn't stop when they leave, either, finds his eyes wandering to Allen as they walk, studying the profile of his face. Allen looks over at him after a few minutes, catches Michael’s gaze and raises an eyebrow. Michael shrugs, turns his head in an aborted shake, and he thinks he sees a soft smile on Allen’s face when he turns away.

 

Allen slows when they get by the car, and Michael leans against it as he watches Allen watch the sky, dark shadows hiding his eyes behind his glasses. His head is tilted straight up, loosened curls falling away from his head, and there's a faint smile on his face, something small and secret and for the stars.

“See something you like?” Michael asks, keeping his voice low to not entirely shatter the mood. Allen turns that smile on him, shifting into something different, loses the vast appreciation and gains a mischievous curl.

“Maybe,” he says, eyes heavy where he holds Michael's gaze. “What do you think?”

Michael tilts his head, pretending to consider, as he pushes himself off from the car, taking a step towards Allen, and then another. “I think…” he starts, trails off as the song from the restaurant changes, something soft and smooth drifting to them across the lot, and he’s hit by a thought.

He reaches for Allen, then, sliding an arm around his waist and pulling them together, chests close enough to touch with a deep enough breath. 

“I think I'd like to dance with you,” Michael tells him, grabbing Allen's right hand with his free one, lacing their fingers together. It startles a laugh from Allen, a short, bright sound, and Michael grins as he starts to sway them, just so slightly, side to side.

“Here? Now?” Allen asks him, though he curls his fingers over Michael's and brings his other hand to rest on Michael's upper arm.

“Saw something I liked,” Michael shrugs, and when Allen laughs again, Michael wants to spend the rest of his life on the receiving end of the sound.

They pick up, just a bit, finding the tempo a little better and doing more than just a sway, shuffling their feet back and forth, slow, settling into each other. It's a song Michael thinks he's probably heard before, but he can't place it beyond the gentle notes, too indistinguishable here, floating over the fog. 

They end up much closer than where they started, and Allen slides his hand from Michael's arm around his back, fingers lightly curling around Michael's shoulder. It brings them even closer, the warmth of Allen's body radiating through his jacket, the smell of his cologne overwhelming in the best way. Michael turns his head, brushing his nose against the side of Allen's face, lightly along his cheekbone, then pressing into his temple, breathing him in.

Michael leads them in something of a simple waltz, although he's distracted, by Allen and the way he feels, and it's a little awkward as Allen adjusts to following, but they're dancing. It's unhurried, sensual, intimate – this, holding onto each other, moving in time, shuffles and rotations. 

Allen's head falls to Michael's shoulder, temple resting on top of part of his hand, and he's looking at Michael, eyes big behind his glasses, as blue and dark and endless as the sky around them. Michael looks at him, blinks slow as he studies Allen's face, the different colors in his hair, the lines at the edges of his eyes. He's beautiful, Michael thinks, and he feels a little ridiculous about it after the thought has crossed his mind, but it's the best word he can think of for Allen in this moment, for how Michael feels.

It's a natural progression, then, kissing – Michael simply shifts, a barely-there tilt of his head, captures Allen's lips, and it's just as slow as their dancing, a give and take, push and slide. Allen makes a noise, something high and faint, and pushes just a little harder, opens up a little more.

They've stopped dancing, now, and Michael frees his hand from Allen's to rest it on the side of his neck, cupping the underside of his jaw, thumb rubbing back and forth on the skin in front of his ear. 

Allen's hand falls to Michael's waist, sliding around to his lower back, a loose fist in the fabric of his jacket. He makes soft, quiet noises as Michael kisses him, so wonderfully addicting Michael never wants to stop.

But when they do, they're breathing in deep, long breaths, sharing each other's air as neither makes an effort to move. Allen mouths along the parts of Michael's jaw he can reach without having to adjust, flexing his hand on Michael's waist.

“Come on,” Michael says, though he doesn’t really want to leave, doesn’t want to break this mood they’ve created. “It’s getting late, and we still have two hours to the hotel. Time to go.” He shifts his hand from Allen's face to smooth over his hair. 

“Hm, yes,” Allen agrees, the word pressed into the skin on the side of Michael's neck, mumbled. “But only if you drive.”

Michael laughs, low and soft, and he presses a kiss to Allen’s temple. “‘Course,” he says. “You okay?”

“‘M fine,” Allen tells him. “Tired.”

“It has been a long day, hasn't it,” Michael agrees. He presses another quick kiss against his lips before stepping away, letting go slowly. “C’mon, you can nap in the car,” he says, ushering Allen in the driver door and sliding in after him.

Allen doesn't go very far, keeps his body pressed against Michael's, their intertwined hands resting on Michael's leg. Once they're on the main road, Michael feels Allen settle against him completely, warmth radiating from his body, and his head comes down on Michael's shoulder, heavy, and comforting in the way physical contact is.

“Wake me up if you need anything,” Allen tells him, ending with a big yawn, and Michael smiles.

“Copy that,” he says, and squeezes Allen's hand. He turns just slightly so he can press his lips against Allen's forehead, long and lingering. His skin is warm and soft, and Michael struggles for a moment with keeping his eyes open, with not just sinking into Allen. “Sleep well.”

  
  



End file.
